


Free Hugs for Charity!

by asdfghakunamatata



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: But loses faith in it, Fluff, I mentioned charity like a hundred times, Kingsman reference, M/M, Mingi loves charity, Minor Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Mother Teresa quote, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rich Kim Hongjoong, Rich Park Seonghwa, Romantic Fluff, Soft Kang Yeosang, Soft Song Mingi, Song Mingi is Whipped, Song Mingi-centric, Wealth, Yeosang makes him believe in it again, Yunho is a suave badass, charity - Freeform, free hugs, high society - Freeform, rich people, the other Ateez members are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27418417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asdfghakunamatata/pseuds/asdfghakunamatata
Summary: Yeosang is giving out free hugs for charity.Mingi is the one who keeps coming back for more.Or,Mingi is passionate about charity. It's something his father had embedded in him since young. But after witnessing the greed of people who use the name of charity as a publicity stunt, he loses faith in what he loves.Until he meets a boy who reminds him that the act of giving starts with them.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 16
Kudos: 107





	Free Hugs for Charity!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with another story yaaay!!
> 
> I thought I'd write a quick fluffy one before I started working on a heavier story.
> 
> This story is full of philanthropy so I hope you're not too bothered by that. It sounded really cute in my head so ofcourse I had to write a whole ass piece on it. 
> 
> Leave kudos and comments on what you think!!
> 
> Enjoy~

Charity events around the business district were a norm in the neighbourhood.

Occasionally, teams of charity organisations would set up fancy booths- whether it’d be for the homeless, starving children or animal rights- and would fuss and frenzy passing shoppers. It was always a carnival with outrageously exorbitant rides and overpriced desserts in the name of charity.

That district had always been a popular spot for these events, because everyone that lived in the neighbourhood and frequented the business district was fucking _loaded_.

They were people of reputation, status and all the money in the world to buy the fame that came with it. Pretentious looking men and women would track from booth to booth with their just as pretentiously looking children in tow. Reporters and entertainment journalists would flock the block, snapping pictures that were soon to grace the headlines with “humble millionaire donates to charity!”

Mingi had never been bothered by these fundraising events that went on in the area. Working in the perfume store directly in front of its location allowed him to be nosy enough to see what was going on and the cause they were raising money for. At first, he was drawn to the events and would attend them in his breaks. That was until one time, while he munched down on his overpriced cotton candy, he caught a glimpse at the exchange between the event organiser and another man wearing a pressed suit with a cheque that clearly _wasn’t_ addressed to the charity they had claimed.

Since then, whenever a charity event was attended by the same man, he’d knew that it was all a facade.

A fake event to paint the high society in pretty colours.

Mingi would never attend another event in that area ever again.

But on a day where the district was fairly dispersed, no reporters lining the block or fancy-dressed women and sleek suited men gathering in pools, the boy cladded in a simple, washed out jeans and an oversized white sweater with what seemed like moth holes on them, simply standing in that very spot, stood out like a sore thumb. He had a makeshift cardboard sign that was artistically decorated in eye-catching colours standing next to him as he stood with a blindfold on and arms spread out invitingly.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Mingi craned his neck from where he stood in the store.

_Free hugs for charity!_

Huh.

That’s new.

“Hey, Yunho,” Mingi calls out, joining his friend at the cashier counter while putting on his own apron. “What’s going on over there?”

Yunho snaps his head up from the stash of bills he’d been counting, taking a glance at his friend’s face before looking out to where he'd been eyeing. “Oh, that? That’s Yeosang. I met him on the way here and he seems nice. He said it’s a charity event or some kind. Something about for every hug he receives, the sponsors funding the event will donate money to the Salvation Army.”

Mingi frowns. A charity event? He had never seen a charity event like _that_ before around the area. In fact, Yeosang’s set up had almost seemed _laughable_ in comparison to the high-end location they were in. It just didn’t seem genuine. Not when he’d only seen such extravagant events even in the name of saving the local parks. He couldn’t help the curiosity that plagued his thoughts.

“Is that even legit?”

Yunho shrugs, placing the bills back into the register. “Dunno. But what’s the harm in that? He’s not looking for cash or cheques like _those_ people usually do. I guess there’s nothing wrong in giving a hug anyways. Besides, when I talked to him earlier, he seemed… honest. And sincere. We don’t usually get those around here.”

His friend had a point. 

Mingi takes another glance at the boy who stood like a statue with his arms outstretched as men and women walked past in disregard. It wasn’t like he was expecting any of _these_ people to accept the free hugs he was giving, but it still left a distasteful feeling seeing them walk off without even sparing a glance. As if he wasn’t there. 

Mingi sets his pondering thoughts aside as a customer walks in, browsing the fragrances they have on display.

* * *

Business had gone on as usual. It wasn’t busy, but even with the stream of patrons coming in and out of the store, Mingi hadn’t been able to put his mind into his work. He had customers repeating their questions and had walked in and out of the store room a couple of times because he’d forgotten what he was looking for.

The lone boy standing in the middle of the square was too distracting.

Yunho approaches him in his blank-stared state, jolting him with a hand on his shoulder. “You can go and ask him, you know. You’re on your break now anyways. I’ll handle the customers.”

A tinge of guilt layers in his eyes, feeling bad for his absent-minded behaviour. But Yunho gives him a reassuring smile, lightly shoving him off before turning to the present customers before Mingi had a chance to resist. 

He bites his lips, unsure why he was so _shy_ about this. Maybe because he had spent too much of his time conversing with middle-aged women and Yunho, being the only other friend he could have normal human being interactions with. The thought of talking to another boy who looked around his age was sending shivers down his spine. It had felt like approaching a new student in school, unsure of whether a conversation would bring them closer or set them further apart.

When he plants his feet in front of the boy, Yeosang had already been sitting down on a box crate, blindfold loosely hanging around his neck with an uncapped bottle of spring water in one hand. Now that Mingi was up close, his eyes unconsciously scanned over the boy’s features.

And fuck did he look _beautiful_.

Yeosang had soft features, from his crescent eyes to his roman shaped nose and down to his thin lips. He had features so small they could fit the surface area of a tissue. This man was built like a _sculpture_.

When the watchful eyes stare pointedly at him, a rush of heat flares his cheeks, aware that he’d been caught staring. Yeosang raises an eyebrow, yet his face was devoid of expression.

“Can I help you?”

Just as he gaped his mouth for an answer, the boy intercepts, as if the question was meant to be rhetorical. “If you’re here to chase me off, I’ll save you some time and let you know I have a permit.”

Mingi’s eyes widened, putting out his hands defensively as Yeosang takes a swig from his bottle. “Wha- no, I just-“ he pauses, “ha- have people been chasing you off?”

The other boy scoffs, though he didn’t seem deterred, so Mingi would assume that those passing shoppers... hadn’t exactly ignored him. However, he couldn’t help but think that if the reaction from the public had been so negative then…

“Why are you here?” The question that came out hinted curiosity rather than a threat. Mingi was genuinely curious. “If the people here have been assholes to you, then why are you still here?”

Yeosang stares at him, unimpressed. He didn’t seem bothered or angered by the question but his expression remained disinterested. He sets the bottle in his hand to the ground, wetting his hydrated lips. “Thought people cared around here, considering those gala-sized charity events you all always seem to have.”

“Oh, trust me. These assholes only know how to look good in the papers. I’ve been here long enough to know. Charity is _not_ in their dictionary.” 

Yeosang finally cracks a smile, facing Mingi with a look that was something other than the previous boredom. They stare a moment in silence before Yeosang puts out a hand for him to shake. “Yeosang. You?”

“Mingi.”

“Well, Mingi. You’re interesting, aren’t you?” 

Mingi doesn’t know why, but he takes it as a compliment. The boy finally stands, dusting the non-existent dirt off his pants when Mingi eventually asks the question playing on his lips.

“Oh, by the way, you talked to my friend, Yunho, earlier-“ he gestures to the perfume store “- and he told me you’re fundraising for the Salvation Army. Why? And free hugs for charity? How does that work?”

He couldn’t help the string of questions but the situation still felt incredulous to him. Having only seen exaggerated performances of charity to _appear_ charitable, he couldn’t help but doubt the boy’s intentions. But, on the other hand, there hadn’t been a crowd waiting to jump into Yeosang’s arms, but rather the opposite. There were also no sign of a single reporter, let alone the sly-looking man in the business suit. 

Yeosang quietens, taking a moment to process and decide on his answer. “I guess… because I know what poverty is like.” 

_oh-_

Mingi bites his cheek, wondering if he’d stepped over the boundary that were safe questions to ask a _stranger_. Could this conversation be the kind where they’d be set further apart?

“My friends and I built ourselves from the dirt. We know the struggles of living in insecurity and the fear that comes with it. Now that we’re in a better financial standing, we want others like us to have the same opportunity. Besides, if we’re in a position to help others, shouldn’t it be our responsibility to do so?”

Goosebumps pricked his skin as he listened. Yeosang was clearly not like the rest. He had spoken with so much sincerity and earnest feelings that Mingi couldn’t find a hint of falsity that would suggest otherwise. No tell in his eyes that would give away any other motivations. 

He was speaking the truth.

“And as for how this works,” Yeosang pulls the blindfold from his neck to his forehead, “it’s as simple as it sounds. For every hug I get, my sponsor will donate an amount to the charity page I set up.”

There was a soft smile playing on Yeosang’s lips as he looks up at Mingi. He couldn’t describe it. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while. The sparkle in Yeosang’s eyes never left as he spoke about what he was doing.

He recognised those same sparkles in his late father’s.

His father had always been so passionate about humanitarianism, bringing Mingi along on his trips doing volunteer work and helping out the people in need, passing on his fiery charitable spirit onto his son.

_‘Remember this, Mingi. It’s not about how much we give, it’s about how much love we put into giving.’_

It was the feeling of _admiration_. The same admiration he had for his father, in that moment, Mingi had for Yeosang.

Without thinking twice, he threw his arms around the boy, resting his chin on the shorter boy’s shoulder and encapsulating him in a warm hug. Yeosang jumps at the sudden embrace, but remains still until Mingi pulled away.

“You’re amazing for doing this. No matter what those snobby rich shits say, you’re doing something incredible.” Mingi offers a firm smile, hoping to indicate how much he believes in the other and to wish him good luck. 

Yeosang return the smile, soft as ever. “Well, thank you for your donation, kind sir.”

When Mingi returns to the store, already placing the apron around his neck, Yunho pats his back and whispers a quick “details later” and a wink (which Mingi replies with a hard shove). He returns to his station but his eyes were still fixated on the boy standing outside with his blindfold on and arms outstretched.

He had lost his faith over the charity events that take place in this disgustingly wealthy neighbourhood.

But he found himself rooting for Yeosang.

* * *

An hour and forty-five minutes flew by but not a single person had approached Yeosang, much less _hugged_ him.

Yes, Mingi had been watching the entire time. Yes, he’d felt pity for Yeosang whenever he’d squat his tired legs for a moment before standing in position again. Yes, he’d felt his blood boil dangerously when people would glare at him or spat in a spot _too_ close to him.

But that was the nature of these people.

Ignorance is bliss, they say.

Mingi had been polishing one of the perfume bottles when he overhears a conversation by two overly-dressed women browsing through the Givenchy collection.

“…and the stench coming from him? For heavens sake, _all_ I’m saying is, if you’re coming into our neighbourhood at least have the _decency_ to clean yourself up a little.” The lady scoffs, picking up a bottle from the display.

“Clearly just a street rat looking to mooch off others. The _audacity_ he has,” her friend sneers, spritzing the fragrant she had on hand to her wrist, giving it a few sniffs. “Where is the police when we need them? They should remove him soon, or so God help me, I can just _hear_ our property values plummeting right this second.”

The blood runs thin through his veins, but he could only grit his teeth. They were still their customers. Basic retail service etiquette taught him that he couldn’t afford to lose his anger towards customers.

“I hope we don’t catch his poverty.”

Fuck etiquettes.

“Listen here, you snobby, self-centered rats. Maybe it’s because your heads are _so far up your asses_ that you can’t tell what charity is when you see it. That guy out there is _actually_ doing something worth an _actual_ impact around here but of _course_ you people would take that as an offence because _‘oh, just how would you benefit from this?’_ You should be ashamed of yourselves.” 

By the time Mingi was done with his outburst, the two women bore horrified expressions, faces turned beet red and lips pulled so tight, it formed a thin, white line. Maybe Mingi would've admitted that he could’ve chosen better words, but that didn’t change how much he meant it.

“I- _Ach-_ You- Where is your manager?” The lady seethes, crossing her arms across her chest as the other had her fists balled in anger, swinging her hair audaciously to one side. “I’ll have you take responsibility for this! I demand to see the owner!”

“I hear you’re looking for me, ma’am?” Yunho steps in, hands behind his back with the calmest expression on his face. “Is there a problem?”

“ _You’re_ the owner?” The other lady stares dubiously but Yunho’s expression remains unchanged. “Well, whatever. I'll have you know that _so_ _meone-"_ her eyes gesturing towards Mingi "-here has made such _repulsive_ and _despicable_ remarks which _demands_ an apology.”

“I’m glad we both agree.” Yunho lets on, remaining composed, his calm smile not once wavering. “So, are you going to apologise, ma’am?”

The two ladies stiffen in posture, hands pressing against their chests with sharp gasps. Their faces twisted in shock and disgust that were so amusing to Mingi he had to stop the laughter threatening to spill. Oh, how he loved his savage best friend for moments like these.

“Wha-“

“If you’re not looking to apologise then we would kindly request for you to leave. Our store has zero tolerance for disrespectful patrons.” 

One of the ladies had appeared wanting to throw another retort, but Yunho’s darkening expression caught her by the tongue. She scoffs, pointing her nose upwards as she tugs her friend. “Come on, now, these _animals_ aren’t worth it,” she sneers lowly, tossing her hair in their faces as they head out the door.

If there was one thing that Jeong Yunho has, it was principles and the _balls_ to back up those principles.

It wasn’t the first time Yunho had turned away a rude customer. Mingi had always known Yunho to put his morals before service; always saying that _'_ _manners maketh man.’_ It was the reason Mingi had been so readily drawn to be his friend in middle school and now the reason, among many, that he stayed.

Jeong Yunho was a rare breed.

“You know, Mingi, I appreciate you standing out for your crush out there, but maybe dial it down with the vocabulary, yeah?” Yunho hinted, already heading to the storeroom to check up on supplies.

Mingi nods, understandingly. He did agree that- “Wait- _what?_ I- What crush? I only _just_ met the guy.”

Even without the sight of his friend, the loud _HAH_ bounced from the storeroom. “Yeah, sure. That guy. The reason you’ve been messing up orders. Tripping up over questions. Absent-mindedly staring out into that space. Yep. _Not a crush.”_

“I don’t- I- ...Is it that obvious?” His high-pitched voice falters into something with a tinge of panic. Yunho laughs as he walks back in, shaking his head at his friend’s innocence.

Mingi’s eyes drift back to the boy standing outside. “I don’t know… it’s just… what those two ladies were saying about Yeosang… talking as if him just being there was a nuisance.”

He knew the courage it needed to stand in a faceless crowd, asking in a forced politeness for any sort of small contribution. He remembers the feeling so well, walking up and down the packed sidewalks, holding out tins and shaking them just to _try_ and make his presence known. All he could think about when he came home defeated that day was just how could people _not care?_

He looks at Yeosang again, mind deep in thoughts.

_“If we’re in a position to help others, shouldn’t it be our responsibility to do so?”_

The words ring in his ears, shifting and moulding themselves before formulating into an idea. He glances at the display of fragrances in his reach, picking out a rectangular, dark brown bottle. _Tom Ford Oud Wood._ Spraying once onto his wrist and bringing it up to his nose, he breathed in the musky scent, pauses, then sprays twice into the space in front of him, stepping into it and letting the scent stick to his clothes.

“Mingi, what are you-“

“Yunyun, I’ll be right back-“

He quickly jogs over to where Yeosang still stood, blindfolded with his arms outstretched. Yeosang had still worn the bored expression on his face like when he’d first met him. Getting over his initial pause and giving his cologne disguise one last sniff, he steps into his arms, filling the space with his own warmth. The other boy was startled for a moment, letting out a surprised _'_ _oh'_ , before relaxing into the embrace.

There was a brief moment of silence with the two not moving a twitch. Maybe in his subconscious mind, Mingi had taken the golden opportunity to snag another hug from the pretty boy, but he wanted to make sure Yeosang didn’t go home with regret. With the lost of hope in humanity. He wanted to make sure that he knew that there were still people who _cared_.

“Mingi?” 

The said boy visibly stiffens. 

Had his cologne disguise not work?

“Mingi, is it you?” If Yeosang’s arms weren’t locked in place by Mingi’s, he was sure he would’ve pulled his blindfold off by now.

“Uh-m.. N-no?” 

Before Yeosang had a chance to retort, the other had already dropped his arms from the embrace and bolted back towards the store, hiding behind his very tall friend with his own very tall body. Mingi couldn't even spare a glance back as he tries to look busy examining a perfume bottle, Yunho slapping a hand over his eyes as he shook his head with a sigh. _(“Are we really the same age…” Mingi catches him muttering under his breath.)_

The next time Mingi tries approaching Yeosang, he wore Valentino’s _Uomo Intense,_ hoping that the stronger scent would do the trick. Instead of pulling the other into a forefront hug, he slides his arm over Yeosang’s shoulder, wrapping his other arm across his belly into a side embrace for a fleeting moment.

“I appreciate your different hugging approach and the variation in fragrances to mask yourself,” Yeosang chuckles before Mingi has a chance of pulling away. “But, thank you again for your kind donation, I guess.”

Seeing the soft smile spreading across his face was enough for Mingi to keep coming back for more.

At periods at a time, he’d return with a different scent- Giorgio Armani, Versace, Ralph Lauren, even Chanel at one point. He would side-eye Yunho, though, before even thinking about going off again, feeling guilty that he was using the samples on display and constantly running off to hug a stranger. But Yunho would be leaning on the counter with his chin in his hands, amusement playing in his eyes as he waves on forward. _'_ _Are you joking? Go ahead. I wanna see how this plays out.'_

When Mingi walks back into the square with a mixture of scents (that may have smelt a little _too_ distasteful), he froze in his steps when he sees Yeosang facing a couple, a woman draped in jewellery across every possible limb on her body and a man crisp, dark suit. Their presence hadn't bothered him so much. But standing with them was a _policewoman_.

Despite his new company, Yeosang looked completely disinterested in the conversation, leaning on his leg with his arms crossed. 

“-can’t just let some _vermin_ enter our neighbourhood and _demand_ money from us like this! This is completely abhorrent behaviour! What will people say about our neighbourhood??”

Mingi jogs over, his nose scrunching in disgust at the conversation taking place, but he pauses at a reasonable distance from them, wondering if it was his place to intervene. Yeosang didn’t look like he needed his assistance- hell, he looked like he couldn’t give two shits, blinking uncaringly as if they were taking up too much time of his day.

“-by our local district laws, one must have a permit to organise a fundraiser or a fine penalty is applied. Now, I _highly doubt_ that this young man is in a position to file for one! Not in _this_ neighbourhood for sure!” 

The policewoman, positioned between the two parties like a mediator, sighs quietly. Maybe they were taking up too much of her time too. “Well, sir? Do you have a permit?”

Mingi watches Yeosang reach into the pocket of his washed out jeans, eyes boring a layer of irritation in them. After ruffling into them, his body goes rigid. Carefully, he places his hands in the other pocket, his back pocket, then his other back pocket. He’s no longer staring pointedly at them, but he hangs his head, breathing heavily as he searches through his pockets once more. At his hurried state, the lady smirks smugly as she crosses her arms proudly, ready to brag her victory.

 _Shit_.

“He has a permit!” 

The four heads snap up at the sound of Mingi’s urgent voice. Not a single one of them moved. All held in anticipation. 

_Well, shit._

_He didn’t think it this far._

“Who in the world are you?”

Mingi gapes, willing the movement in his legs to cross over to them. “O-Uh. It’s- Yeosang has a permit. I came by earlier and he showed me his permit.”

He shifts his eyes to meet Yeosang’s sloe-eyed ones, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. _‘When the hell did I do that?’_

 _‘Just go with it.’_ He tries to communicate with his eyes.

“Well, that’s alright. But I do need to see the papers. I believe that you have them with you?” Mingi whips his head at the policewoman who was staring between two of them expectantly. 

_Again, he did not think this far._

_Lie. Lie. Lie._

“The wind must have taken it.”

_Okay maybe just shut up, Mingi._

The lady cackles amusingly, bending backward exaggeratedly. “How amusing! I think you have your answer now, ma’am. Now how about that fine-“

“We have the permit!”

Mingi whips back to the voice behind him.

Was someone else coming to save them this time?

Whoever it was, he hoped that they were a _hell lot better_ _at lying_ than he was.

His eyes land on the three boys walking leisurely towards them. They were cladded in the same style of clothes Yeosang had worn. One of them had a headset around his neck and another held a camcorder facing them, both wearing pleased smiles on their faces. The other boy trailing behind them had a hand in his pocket and a piece of paper swinging carelessly in the other.

“Took you guys long enough.” Yeosang grumbled. The boy with the headset pinches his cheek, a cheeky smile playing his lips, but Yeosang quickly swats it away.

The other boy leans into the circling group, passing on the paper to the police, but the confident man was faster, snatching it as the couple scan their eyes over it. Yeosang finally relaxes (which Mingi is relieved about), letting his friend lean an arm over his shoulder. The other two watch on, the camera not once wavering from the situation, but the other one had had a phone pressed to his ear.

What the hell was going on.

The couple reading the paper stares wide-eyed at its content. 

“Signed by… _Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa??”_

The shrill of her voice was definitely going to ring in his ears, but Mingi eyes perked up at the names.

There wasn’t a single soul in the neighbourhood who didn’t know those names.

Kim Hongjoong was a name always dancing from one mouth to another. He was famous for his artworks that were truly defining a new era in the world of art. His unique techniques and colour schemes were being taught across universities in his name. Having an artwork hung in their house was a sign of being on the top-tier level of wealth among the rich.

Park Seonghwa, on the other hand, had made a name for himself as a member of the legislative assembly was always proposing strong and assertive bills and schemes that had even lifted the country’s economy at a dire time. He had even been awarded a medal _personally_ by the president. People say his name with respect.

But the two of them together… they were a beacon of light that touched the lives of every person they shone on. Despite having their names carried with prestige, they were actively and heavily involved in volunteer work, setting up their own charity organisation, the _Aurora Foundation_. They funded rural schools around the country where the government would not, built hospitals in areas where the closest one may be three hours away from their neighbourhood and provided scholarships to poor families that would support them not only through school, but throughout their lifetime until they were stable enough to support themselves. 

Their honourable recognition was the incentive for a neighbourhood like Mingi’s to put on the facade in hopes of gaining the same fame.

“Th-That’s- Wow- Not only are you bold, but _stupid enough_ to forge signatures of people as respectful as Mr Kim and Mr Park. This is a criminal offence! You should be ashamed of yourselves- I hope-“

“Hyung?” The boy with the phone positions the phone where every could see, an unmistakable face gracing the screen. “These people here don’t believe it’s actually you and Seonghwa hyung. First of all, I told you so. Second of all, can you tell them to fu- back off now?”

Kim Hongjoong chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Well, sir, ma'am, it’s true. Seonghwa and I signed off the papers. They're legitimate. The two of us are funding their social experiment.”

Mingi would’ve doubled over in laughter, pointing fingers at the couple’s horrified-stricken expressions... if he wasn’t just as confused himself

Saying a quick goodbye and pocketing the phone, the boy leaning on Yeosang speaks up, “The four of us are part of hyungnims’ Aurora organisation. We were carrying out a social experiment in the district to see if the people here are as _charitable-"_ he rolls over the word mockingly "-as they say. Don’t worry, you’ll see what we’ve found on our website”. He points to the camera where the boy behind it gives a quick wave. “Now that you’ve seen the papers and the proof, we’re all good?”

The policewoman nods with a friendly upturn of her lips. She leads the stiffen couple away, bidding them a good day and before long, they were out of sight.

Mingi doesn’t know how long he hasn't move until he feels a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close and locking him into a headlock. 

“You’re Mingi, aren’t you?” The boy laughs, ruffling his hair for a long moment before releasing him. Mingi almost struggled to take in _huge_ gaps of breaths. “We’ve been taping the whole thing. What you did was so cute! _You’re_ so cute!!”

“San-ah, you’re scaring the dude.”

“I don’t see him complaining, Wooyoung-“

“You guys are so loud-“

“Aww, Jongho’s jealous-“

Mingi blinks in confusion at the chaos unfolding, but the soft tug of his sleeve distracts him. 

“Sorry about those idiots. They don’t know what self-control is.” Yeosang sighs, eyes trailing to the three who were already trying to shove each other into headlocks (though two of them trapped helplessly under the red haired boy). “And sorry about not telling you the real purpose of me doing this. I didn’t mean to deceive you. But when you kept coming back for a hug, I thought, wow, I could've had a million of those people spitting their disgust at me, but your one hug would still defeat whatever treatment they gave me.”

His words were honest. The same honesty he had given him when he answered Mingi’s questions before. Not that Mingi minded that he wasn’t told the whole truth before, because the purpose was still the same. It was always about charity.

But looking back at it now, a slight tinge of embarrassment paints his cheeks at his behaviour. He must’ve looked like a fool dashing back and forth, giving him hugs in weird angles. That embarrassment quickly turns to worry as he gasps.

“Oh shit, did I ruin your experiment? Me giving you hugs?”

Yeosang’s blank expression shifts into something more friendly. His eyes softens while his lips pull back into a tight smile, resisting the urge to chuckle. Being the shorter of the two, having to lift his head higher to meet Mingi’s eyes was endearing enough, but seeing Yeosang’s brightened expression calmed the nerves playing under his skin.

“Actually, you did the exact opposite. You saved the experiment.”

Mingi’s brows twitched in confusion, but before he could get a word in, San interrupts them. “Yeosang’s right. Initially, we wanted to prove that people in this neighbourhood didn't give a damn about charity. But then you came in and twisted the storyline in a new direction.”

“You showed us that you can be kind even in a place where others are not. That you can turn hatred into hope.” Jongho (Mingi learns) steps in with his camera hanging from his neck. “We hadn’t expected that. But that’s going to move people when this video comes out on our website.”

And Jongho was right.

Nearly a day into it’s release, Yunho had come bouncing into his room of their shared apartment, pouncing on him to stir him from his sleep. Mingi hadn’t even cracked an eyelid when his brightly-lit phone gets shoved into his face. It was playing on their front page. 

**SOCIAL EXPERIMENT: WHERE THERE ARE DARK CLOUDS, THERE IS STILL A SUN.**

The video started with the description of their social experiment before Yeosang appeared, standing with his blindfolds on and arms stretching out. The clock that was edited to the side rotated endlessly with no one approaching him for nearly _three hours._ “BUT THEN, THIS HAPPENED” flashed across the screen for a few seconds before it cuts into a montage of Mingi, running over again and again into the space between Yeosang’s arms.

Even though he was partly the subject of the video, the way Wooyoung had edited the video made it seem so… touching.

A sentiment that was shared by millions of viewers of the clip.

Netizens in the comments were relentless in their responses, garnering a mix of heart-warmed comments and backlash against the high-society community. In fact, many were insisting magazines and news outlets to give a truthful report on the controversy. Petitions were set up on various fundraising websites demanding for a reconstruction of the management over these charity events. 

“This is the ripple effect you’ve started,” Yeosang laughs on a day they were spending the afternoon chilling on his couch. He leans further into Mingi’s side. “You have a fanbase now, you know? They’re out there using your name to start campaigns and shit. You’re famous now- shit- wait, that doesn’t mean I have to share my boyfriend now, do I?”

Mingi drops his gaze to meet Yeosang who was pressed into him, eyes on the screen of his phone but the smile playing on his face suggested that his mind was somewhere else.

Yeosang was wrong.

The one who started the ripple effect, who had been the cause of a movement bigger than himself, wasn’t Mingi. Mingi had lost faith in the genuinity of charity organisations. He didn’t believe in the fundraisers that were a set up as a publicity stunt for greedy people. Those people took that faith away from him. He had long lost the motivation to share a voice around self-entitled people.

It was Yeosang who revived the passion in him again. 

_“If we’re in a position to help others, shouldn’t it be our responsibility to do so?”_

Through those words, Mingi was reminded of his father. Philanthropy was a trait his father made sure he embedded deep within his own son. He had always told him that the consequences of a single act of charity is far beyond what they could imagine.

_‘Remember this, Mingi. It’s not about how much we give, it’s about how much love we put into giving. That's where humanity begins. And when that happens, people will be drawn to do the same. That's how you make a difference.’_

His father taught him love for the act of giving. 

Yeosang had reminded him of that.

It didn’t matter to him that the world seemed uncaring, lost of empathy or simply sweeping what matters the most under the rug. It didn’t matter if the people around him lacked the support for change.

Yeosang never lost faith. He never stopped believing that what he could do could make a good difference.

Plant the seed of hope, and the giving tree will grow.

Mingi’s name may be credited for the spark of movements, but Yeosang was the match that rekindled that flame in him.

He couldn’t have imagined it before. Their relationship had been born out of a scene of a movie.

The had been boy who gave free hugs for charity and the boy who kept coming back for more. 

Mingi buries his nose in Yeosang’s hair, giving a light kiss that makes the other melt deeper into his side. He intertwines his fingers around Yeosang, having the warmth of the other plastered against him felt a like a million times better than any of those brief hugs they've shared. And knowing that the warmth was there to stay.

Even in the act of giving, he felt like he had received more than he could’ve ever asked for.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the ending isn't too rushed. I had different ideas on the ending but I thought this was the most reasonable one. I had ideas for an epilogue but maybe I'll do it if the response if good? 
> 
> Other than that, I really hope you enjoyed this story!! Leave kudos and comments on what you thought about it (I really like reading them!)
> 
> The next story I'll be working on will be longer and might take a while, but it'll be a seongjoong fic (my fav ship finally) and I'm really excited about it hehe.
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading! Hope to see you in my other works!


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